


Lost

by RumbleFish14



Series: Vikings [4]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Brother/Brother Incest, Brotherly Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Season/Series 04, Secrets, Taboo, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27609592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RumbleFish14/pseuds/RumbleFish14
Summary: Ivar and Ubbe make their arguments to Hvitserk about who he should go with after the battle of York
Relationships: Hvitserk/Ivar (Vikings), Hvitserk/Ubbe (Vikings)
Series: Vikings [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081790
Kudos: 26





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a picture, and I just love them together ❤️

Lost  
(Oneshot)

The city was quiet as darkness fell all around them. The wind was a sharp, continuous sound just outside the windows, letting in a breeze to cool their overheated skin. The moon shone through the linens, illuminating the room of sleeping vikings. 

The battle of York was a success. Hard won and bravely fought, they took down the Christians with little to no effort and only lost a handful of men instead of half their army. The battle was won because of Ivar's plan and his impressive strategies. Everyone knew Ivar was the reason they'd won, otherwise they'd have been swarmed by the surprise attack that came from the crumbling walls. 

Ubbe knew, just like the rest of them, but he didn't want to give Ivar credit because he was the oldest of them. He was supposed to have all the great plans, like their father, but it seemed that gift fell to Ivar, the cripple. Ivar the boneless, a God amongst men. 

Hvitserk knew from the very beginning that Ivar was smarter than all of them. That had been proven time and time again. It was clear the Gods favored him, possibly to make up for his deformity. And unlike Ubbe, he didn't have a problem giving Ivar his due. He was just grateful to be a part of it all, grateful Ivar and Ubbe were on his side. 

Ivar won this battle. He knew going to the King about the land was a bad idea and warned them that they were more than just farmers now and that after everything, after taking over Wessex and Northumbria, they wouldn't be welcomed with open arms like Ubbe thought. It would be hostile territory, with untrusting neighbors in every direction. 

Tomorrow, they were heading home. Running back to Kattegat with their tails between their legs, like cowards. Ivar had said as much. It was ultimately Ubbe's decision, even when Ivar gave them both a chance to make it right, only they had to acknowledge him as leader of the great army. They could have stayed and joined him and became victorious, but Ubbe's pride was bruised, forcing him, forcing them to run. 

The remainder of the night, he and Ubbe sat together, as far away from Ivar and his army as they could manage without going outside altogether. They spoke in hushed whispers, especially when angry, judgmental eyes kept looking at them. They shared horns of ale, a plate of food, so they didn't overstay their welcome. 

When the others were asleep, Ivar included, surrounded by a wall of warriors with an axe firmly in his grip, they each moved closer by the fire to stay warm and tried to sleep. Given Ubbe's injuries, he fell asleep quite quickly, on the opposite side of the fire than him. Hvitserk laid his fur coat on the hard ground to make it softer, then slipped out of his shirt and used it for his head. And like Ivar, he fell asleep with a weapon in his hand, not an axe, but a sharpened knife, just in case.

As they slept as peacefully as the Gods allowed, the fire died down, creating a low crackling sound as logs slid to the side. Low snores echoed off the thick walls. It was soothing as Hvitserk drifted in and out of sleep. Awake for a moment, asleep for a few more before the cycle repeated. During one of those half awake moments, he heard another sound, a shuffle across the ground. He'd heard that sound all his life and learned to fear it as much as he anticipated it. The slow, dragging crawl as Ivar made his way across the room. 

Hvitserk tensed, not wanting to overreact if Ivar was simply crossing the room to step outside and relieve himself from drinking too much ale, or perhaps to check outside and make sure Christian soldiers weren't coming back in the dead of night. But when neither of those things happened and that shuffling sound got closer, Hvitserk gripped the handle of his knife and tensed, ready for an attack. 

The moment he felt Ivar's body heat, he turned, knife drawn. He put it to his neck and Ivar smiled. He didn't speak at first, his breath came in harsh pants, filled with adrenaline and fear. He held Ivar's glowing eyes, one filled with blood from battle and dared him to make a move. Just one and that knife would knick the skin and he would bleed.

Ivar's eyes darted around the room and he put a finger to his lips. "Shhhh, do not wake them, brother."

Hvitserk slowed his breathing, a failed attempt at trying to remain calm, one could never be calm around Ivar. "You should know better than to sneak up on me." He pushed the knife, making contact with skin. "What do you want?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Ivar smiled. "I want you and Ubbe to stay with me. We belong together, you know that."

"I do, Ubbe as well, but he won't rule under you, Ivar. He just won't."

Ivar sighed, rolling his eyes as he smiled. "He's made that perfectly clear tonight. But I have yet to hear from you, dear Hvitserk. Can you not speak for yourself?"

With a quick look across the fire, Ubbe was still sound asleep. One eye swollen shut, while the other remained closed as he snored. He was in a deep sleep, which meant he wouldn't wake up while they spoke. 

"I speak for myself." Hvitserk said as he brought his eyes back to him.

"Then speak. Tell me your truth, Hvitserk. Tell me what you really want."

What did he want? That was a question that was never aimed towards him. He wasn't the oldest like Bjorn Ironside, a leader by trade, by rights. He led the great Viking army and won two battles all within a few weeks of each other. He wasn't the youngest like Ivar the boneless, either. He wasn't the baby, the one their mother Aslaug loved the most, the one blessed by the Gods. He was in the middle, as Sigurd was, left without choices, without being consoled about the important things like battle plans and where to raid. 

Now Ivar was asking and it made him question everything and everyone, especially himself. Did he want to stay and help Ivar slowly take over the world, like their uncle Rollo, or did he want to go be a farmer like Ubbe wanted, like their father always dreamed of? Or did he want to go home and leave the rest up to his brothers? Nothing awaited him in Kattegat. Lagertha killed their mother, their father was dead, their lives as the Sons of King Ragnar were over. They held no power, they sat above no one. They were just like everyone is else. 

"Well, brother? I don't have all night." 

Hvitserk growled at him and Ivar grinned, almost as if he enjoyed seeing his agitation. "I don't know what I want, Ivar. A few seconds of your precious time aren't enough to make a life changing decision such as this. It will take me time to decide."

When he didn't lower the knife, Ivar put two fingers on the blade and pushed down, cutting himself as the knife lowered. "Ubbe sets sail when the sun rises. That is not very much time, Hvitserk. And if it helps you make up your mind, I need you, brother. I need you here with me, helping me kill Christians just as our father did."

"He killed because he was forced to, Ivar. He wanted what Ubbe wants now. He wants to farm new lands here, to bring our people here."

Ivar nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. "Yes, this is true. But look where that got him. Look where he is now."

At that, Hvitserk didn't have a reply. He couldn't argue because it was true. Ragnar stopped caring about the Gods and their people a long time before his death. Instead, he followed the bizarre words of a Christian Monk and it killed them both, along with many of their people. It forced Rollo into the hands of the Franks, Floki was set aside, cast away for someone Ragnar thought was better. It tore their family apart and left them to pick up the pieces. 

"I need some time." Hvitserk tucked his knife against his side, not nearly as hostile as he was before, because Ivar was not there to kill him like he imagined. "You'll have my answer tomorrow."

"Very well, take your time. But not too much time or I might change my mind." Ivar said as he slowly pulled himself away. 

Hvitserk stayed on his side, staring into the fire when that dragging sound stopped. Ivar had not yet made it to his wall of warriors, and within seconds, he could feel Ivar pushing against his back. He was warm, wearing only a long shirt and his trousers. 

"What are you doing?"

Ivar chuckled, wiggling further until his chest was flushed with Hvitserk's back. He reached down and grabbed the cloth that bound his legs together and pulled them close as well. "I am trying to convince you to stay with me."

It had been so long since anyone warmed his bed, be they male or female. Not since Ubbe's marriage to Margrethe, that night they chose to share her, all of them warming the same bed. Skin against skin, hers soft, theirs rough from fighting. It had been months since that happened and Hvitserk had needs like everyone else and hadn't had his taken care of. 

But this was Ivar, his little brother. It wasn't the same. 

"How is this going to convince me to stay with you and not Ubbe?"

Ivar chuckled. "Because I have ways about me that our older brother does not have. I have ways to make you stay, ways that no one else would even attempt or be smitten by the Gods."

Hvitserk knew exactly what Ivar meant when one rough, bruised hand slid across his side, leaving bumps along his skin, then slid around to his stomach. He breathed deeply, trying to ignore the wants and needs of his body as Ivar's mouth moved across his back. 

"I need you, Hvitserk." Ivar slid his hand down to the strings of his trousers and pulled, releasing the sides so it bagged in the front. "I need my brother by my side."

"Ivar," Hvitserk moaned, closing his eyes so Ubbe's snoring form cleared from his mind, making him feel guilty about what was happening. 

"I have more to offer you than Ubbe does. I have the entire world, Hvitserk. I know you want to stay and fight, to raid every village we come to until we are across the world and everyone knows our names."

His lungs stopped working for a moment when Ivar's hand slipped into his trousers and gripped him firmly. He was already hard, aching with desire, in need of anothers touch instead of his own. When he finally breathed properly, it was sharp and painful and came with a deep sound. 

"You are more than just a farmer."

Now Ivar's mouth was in his ear, as were his words. Words he knew were true. Hvitserk leaned back against him, giving up any hope to stop, even when getting caught could certainly mean their death. He surrendered himself to his brother, to those slow, pleasurable strokes. 

"You are a great warrior, Hvitserk. As great as the rest of us."

The pressure in his belly was rising, his legs shifting apart as he pushed into Ivar's skillful hand. A hand that always held an axe, a hand of the Gods. He leaned back against Ivar's chest, pushing his mouth harder into his ear, feeling the rough scrape of his growing beard against him. 

"You are a Viking." Ivar growled.

Hvitserk came with a muffled sound. He turned his head into his fur coat and let Ivar stroke him through those intense pulses worked their way through his body. He slumped, panting as Ivar kissed along his neck, then his ear. 

"Trust me, dear brother, you belong with me." Ivar said as sincerely as possible. He removed his hand, kissed his flushed cheek, then crawled away.

Hvitserk was left with a mess in his trousers, a jumbled mind and a body pulsing with pleasure. It left him confused and agitated once again. Sleep came slowly, his heart being pulled in more than one direction, two in fact, one towards each of his loving, complicated brothers. 

**

The second time he was woken up, was a lot different than the first time. He was shaken, hard enough to jolt him awake and he grabbed for his knife once more, just for someone to place their hand across his mouth, blocking his oncoming words. 

"Shh, don't make a sound." Ubbe whispered, putting a finger to his lips as he kept his hand across Hvitserk's mouth. 

With a nod, Ubbe's hand fell away. The room was much like it had been when Ivar woke him up. Everyone was asleep still, snoring softly, the fire crackling as it died. But no sounds of Ivar moving about and with a glance over, he could see Ivar asleep, curled up on himself. 

"Is it time?" Hvitserk asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Not just yet, I just wanted us to talk before we do this." Ubbe laid down beside him, his back to the fire, his front to Hvitserk. "You didn't say much earlier."

First Ivar, now Ubbe. Both trying to win him over like he was one of their battles. It made him wonder what Ubbe's plan of attack would be, or if it was the same as Ivar's. 

"You said enough for the both of us." He laid back down, trying not to fall asleep within moments. "I don't know what I want, Ubbe. I need time to think about it."

"We are out of time, Hvitserk. The sun rises within the next hour or so, then I will sail for Kattegat with you, or watch you from the ship." 

All he wanted to do was sleep. 

"I need you with me on this, Hvitserk. With Ivar in charge, who knows what will become of the great army."

"Ubbe, please." He turned his head into his fur coat and squeezed his eyes closed. 

There were a few moments of silence before Hvitserk felt Ubbe's hand sliding into his hair, now loose around his shoulders. He arched into the touch without meaning to, giving the same sound he gave Ivar.

"I can't do this without you." Ubbe whispered, then leaned down to kiss along his jawline, then his ear. "I will not do this without you."

Hvitserk leaned into him, pushing his face into Ubbe's chest rather than the fur coat. He breathed in the strong smell of his brother. Dirt and sweat mixed together with a hint of blood from their battle. All things that had his own blood boiling beneath his skin. 

"Hvitserk, look at me."

Ubbe's voice left no room for discussion. He lifted his head, forcing their heads together to meet his eyes. Eyes that glowed almost as brightly as Ivar's did. His stomach tightened in that same way, flooded with need, and desire and love. 

"You don't know how much I need you." Ubbe whispered, his hand slipping from Hvitserk's hair to his chin, gripping it softly to avoid the bruises. 

"Then tell me." Hvitserk also gripped the side of Ubbe's face, holding him harder than he was being held. "Give me a reason to go."

Ubbe rubbed across his cheek, then kissed him softly. Hvitserk couldn't breathe, much like with Ivar but instead of being swallowed by need, Ubbe was slowly leading him through it. Their lips met again, then again, each kiss going longer until he felt Ubbe's tongue slide against his lips. 

"I'm your reason to go, Hvitserk." Ubbe traced his lips, wishing for a smile. "I love you, brother and you belong with me."

"Ubbe…" he was stopped as Ubbe's finger pressed against his lips, stopping him. 

"We can go home and be happy together. We can be as we were before we left. We can share everything."

Before they left, their relationship was complicated and involved Margrethe. They shared her, they touched her and each other and they were happy with it. But he didn't want her in the middle anymore, blocking his every move to get closer to Ubbe. That's what he feared if they went back. 

"Just you and me." Ubbe added after a moment. 

Hvitserk pushed his face into Ubbe's neck, then wound his arm around his waist and squeezed. "We belong together, Ubbe."

"Yes, we do, my viking warrior. We belong together." Ubbe sighed deeply, slowly falling into a restless sleep against him. 

Hvitserk couldn't sleep, not again. His mind was twice as full as it had been before. But he meant what he said to Ubbe, they did belong together. He also believed he belonged with Ivar as well, leaving him in the middle. 

He was torn and no matter what he chose, someone was going to get hurt.


End file.
